


Fighting Me, Myself, and I

by gczebos



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie refusing to believe he's sick and making everything worse, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Sickfic, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 22:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21465757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gczebos/pseuds/gczebos
Summary: “Hey.”“Let’s, let’s just go inside —”“You need sleep, Eds. And soup. And probably some cough syrup —”“You’re not my fucking mom, Richie, let’s just go watch the movie —”“Fuck the movie, you’re sick, Eds. Let’s go home.” Richie said, starting to pull Eddie away from the movie theater.( You’re sick you’re sick you’re delicate you’re breakable you’re fragile you’re sick you’re sick you’re )Eddie shoved Richie off of him, holding nothing back and earning a surprised yelp from Richie as he stumbled backwards. “Stop saying I’m sick!”( Those spots at the edge of his vision were increasing in number, and the one person he wanted to believe he was strong thought he was nothing but a weak and sick little kid. )“Eddie —”Richie’s words were cut off by the worst coughing fit Eddie had yet, and when he went to place a reassuring hand on the smaller boy’s back, he was pushed off even harder.“Fuck you.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 315





	Fighting Me, Myself, and I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again friends! Have a prompt you want me to write for? Send it my way @gczebos on Tumblr! This fic turned out a little angstier than I originally intended but sometimes that's just the way things have to go. No beta on this bad boy, leave kudos if you enjoyed, and trigger warnings for sickness and near death experiences ( specifically drowning ). 
> 
> Happy reading!

If there is one thing Eddie Kaspbrak knows with 100% certainty, it’s that he is not and never will be sick. 

It was only a few months ago that he unraveled his mother’s pile of lies ( _ you’re too delicate, Eddie-bear, you can’t run, you can’t play, you can’t you can’t you can’t _) and in those few months he had gained a new sense of confidence that he’d never had before. After defeating that god-awful clown, he was the first to jump into the quarry, he always picked dare at sleepovers, he tried out for track and made the team without question — Eddie Kaspbrak was brave and proud and definitely not sick at all. 

So when he woke up one morning with a pain in his chest and a cough that wouldn’t go away, he assumed he just had something stuck in his throat. After all, Eddie Kaspbrak was invincible.

* * *

“J-J-J-Jeez, Eddie, t-that sure is some c-c-cough.” 

Five concerned pairs of eyes looked at him from around the lunch table, but Eddie only laughed in return.

“It’s fine, I’ve just got a frog in my throat or something.” He said, happily taking another bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he’d made ( despite his mother’s loud protests against the consumption of any kind of nut-based product ). 

“You sure? You’ve been coughing since English.” Mike added from beside Eddie. 

“I’m sure I’ve got some cough drops —” Ben said, pulling his backpack into his lap. 

"Guys, I’m fine,” Eddie insisted, interrupting himself with a small cough. “I think something just went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.” 

“That’s what your mom said last night when I shoved my dick up —” And Richie was beep-beeped before he could even finish his comment, sitting down to join the others at the table. “What’d I miss?” 

“Eddie’s got a gnarly cough.” 

“Gnarly, really Bev? Are you a surfer now?” Eddie replied, eyes rolling. 

“Aw Eddie-bear, are you feeling sicky-icky?” 

If Richie had said that a few months ago: Eddie would’ve dug deep into his fanny-pack and given him a lecture about how infectious diseases were nothing to joke about. Today, Eddie just stuck his tongue out at Richie and kept eating the peanut butter his mom had never let him eat before.

“Nope. I feel fit as a fiddle.”

And if any of the losers had anything to say against it, they didn’t.

* * *

The cough didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that but Eddie kept shrugging it off and losers followed his lead, because Eddie isn’t and never will be sick. 

Eddie was always the one to worry about sickness, and if he wasn’t worried, they had no reason to be, right? Sure, the cough wasn’t getting better, and Eddie did look a little feverish towards the end of the week, but fall was changing into winter and sometimes those seasonal allergies just kicked people in the butt a little bit. Hell, Ben couldn’t stop sneezing the other day and Stan had stayed home with a head cold just last week. Eddie’s small cough wasn’t anything to be too concerned about. 

That Saturday when Eddie was just about to leave the house to see a movie with his friends, his mother stopped him at the door.

“Eddie-Bear, it’s not good for you to go out with such a bad cough.” 

“It’s not,” _ cough _“that bad.” 

“Listen to you, you’ve probably got bronchitis, you know bronchitis is worse for people who have asthma, Eddie —" 

"But I don’t have asthma.” 

“What nonsense, of course you –” 

"No, mom. You lied about the,” _ cough _ “asthma just like you’re lying,” _ cough cough _ “about me being sick now —”

"Eddie just listen to yourself! We should take you to the hospital, that cough sounds too wet—” 

“No! I’m not going to the hospital over a stupid cough, mom! I’m not sick!” Eddie went to grab the doorknob but was suddenly stopped by his mother gripping his wrist harshly. 

“You’ve always been sick, Eddie-Bear.”

( _ you’ve always been sick you’ve always been sick you’re so delicate you can’t do this you can’t do that you can’t run Eddie-Bear run boy run but you can’t you’re too sick too delicate too fragile too _)

“Shut up, mom.” He pulled his wrist from his shrieking mother’s grip, and walked right out the door.

* * *

Richie was worried about Eddie. The coughing hadn’t stopped all week, and even though all of the losers were playing it off as if it were nothing, all of them were at least a little bit concerned that Eddie was sick and steadily getting worse. Richie still kept a spare inhaler in his backpack at all times ( even though he knew Eddie wasn’t really asthmatic ), but he’d added cough medicine and hand sanitizer to his backpack over the past few days just in case Eddie came to his senses and wanted to get better ( _ Look at me, Eddie Spaghetti, I’ve practically got a pharmacy all of my own in here! _ ).

Richie tried to ignore the way his heart clenched every time Eddie had a coughing fit. It took everything in him not to leap out of his chair and force the cough syrup down his throat every time, because...he’d never _ ever _seen Eddie sick for this long before. Sonia had always quarantined him at the end of the first day, and he was better by the end of the week at the latest. Even though Richie hated the woman with a passion, she knew what to do when Eddie was really, truly sick. 

He briefly thought about asking her to help him get better, but he knew Eddie would disown him in a heartbeat if he did that.

So instead, Richie worried. He’d even gotten to the movie theater fifteen minutes before any of the other losers, just to make sure he’d be there if Eddie wasn’t feeling well when he arrived. And if he wasn’t feeling well, they’d go back to his house and Richie would get him medicine and he'd play nurse while Eddie got some rest. Hell, Richie would even give him first dibs on any of the new comics he’d gotten the day before if Eddie wanted to read them.

If there was one thing Richie Tozier knew with 100% certainty, it’s that he would do anything, _ anything _ to make sure Eddie Kaspbrak was okay.

* * *

By the time Eddie had biked in the cold to the movie theater, he was having some trouble breathing. It didn’t feel like his old asthma attacks ( _ fake asthma attacks for his fake asthma because his mother was a liar liar liar _ ), but his chest hurt and his cough was worse and breathing was something he had to focus on, not just let happen. He couldn’t stop coughing as he locked his bike up, but it was fine, he was fine. Eddie Kaspbrak isn’t sick and he never will be sick, 100% certainty rate, no questions and no doubts.

( _ Those spots at the edge of his vision weren’t real anyway, just his mind playing tricks on him. _)

Apparently not everyone was sold on his invincibility. 

“Eds, I hate to break it to you, but you look like shit.” Richie said, leaning against the wall as Eddie finished locking his bike. 

“Don’t call me,” _ cough cough cough _ “Eds, dickwad. And I’m,” _ cough cough _ “fucking fine so drop it” 

He looked up to see Richie’s expression fall. “Your cough is worse.” 

“Your face,”_ cough _ “is worse.” 

“Wow, Eddie Spaghetti, you must really be sick to be pulling out the ‘your face’ jokes.” Richie teased, all humor gone from his tone and replaced with concern. 

“Not sick, don’t call me that.” Eddie snapped, brushing past Richie as he headed for the lobby. Richie grabbed his wrist right where his mother had only moments ago ( Y_ ou’ve always been sick, Eddie-Bear _ ) and Eddie turned to look him right in the eyes. 

“What?” He asked, his short temper clear in his tone.

“Hey.” 

“Let’s,” _ cough cough hacking up a fucking lung cough _ “let’s just go inside —” 

“You need sleep, Eds. And soup. And probably some cough syrup —” 

“You’re not my,” _ cough _ “fucking mom, Richie, let’s just,” _ cough _ “go watch the movie —” 

“Fuck the movie, you’re sick, Eds. Let’s go home.” Richie said, starting to pull Eddie away from the movie theater. 

( _ You’re sick you’re sick you’re delicate you’re breakable you’re fragile you’re sick you’re sick you’re _ ) 

Eddie shoved Richie off of him, holding nothing back and earning a surprised yelp from Richie as he stumbled backwards. “Stop saying I’m sick!” 

( _ Those spots at the edge of his vision were increasing in number, and the one person he wanted to believe he was strong thought he was nothing but a weak and sick little kid. _ ) 

“Eddie —”

Richie’s words were cut off by the worst coughing fit Eddie had yet, and when he went to place a reassuring hand on the smaller boy’s back, he was pushed off even harder. 

“Fuck you.”

Eddie knew that Richie was only trying to help, but he didn’t need any help. Eddie had lived his entire life with overwhelming amounts of help — primarily from his mother, but from the losers too. He’d grown up depending on the help of others and after fourteen years, Eddie had had enough.

He wanted to be strong. He wanted his friends to believe he was strong. He wanted Richie to believe he was strong. If there is one thing Eddie Kaspbrak knows with 100% certainty, it’s that he is not and never will be sick. Ignoring the dizzy spots that danced along the edge of his vision, Eddie walked right back to his bike and began pedaling away from the movie theater. 

( _ He tried his best to shut out Richie’s pleas for him to stay. _ )

* * *

They’d look for him at home first, Eddie guessed, so home was a no-go zone. The clubhouse would be next on their list, shortly followed by the school and then the pharmacy ( well, if this was a few months ago maybe ). They wouldn’t check the quarry: it was too cold to be out there near the water, as they were set to have snow starting in a few days, so the quarry was the perfect place to go.

Eddie ignored the way his lungs burned as he biked there, ignored how dizzy he felt, and the way the wind chilled him to the bone despite sweating from the exertion. Most of ail, he ignored how each cough ripped at his throat and made his chest ache. He was fine. He wasn’t sick. He was invincible god fucking dammit — 

As Eddie approached the cliff, he knew just how to prove how invincible he was. 

( _ nobody will think you’re sick anymore _ )

He was leaping off the edge before anyone could stop him.

* * *

His body hit the freezing cold water too hard. 

All of the air escaped his lungs, any ache from before turned into a burning pain, and he couldn’t breathe, Eddie couldn’t fucking breathe down here —

And all he could think about was how far he was from the shore, how he couldn’t breathe and the shore was too far and his body hurt and ached and burned and nobody was there to save him because he just wanted to prove that he was strong —

He was strong.

Eddie was strong.

He found a new sense of determination and swam as quickly as he could to somewhere where he could at least stand with his head above the water.

Everything hurt. _ Fuck _, everything really fucking hurt. But Eddie was strong, so Eddie kept swimming. Eddie fought to keep his eyes open and his body moving and breath coming in and out of his lungs because he was not going to die alone out here —

Before he knew what was going on, arms circled around his waist and Eddie let the spots dance their way to the center of his vision.

* * *

Richie wasn’t an idiot — he knew Eddie was hurting, that he was upset and angry with him for saying he was sick, but there was no way in hell he was about to let Eddie bike away and be all alone when he was like this. 

He ditched the movie, not even waiting to tell any of the other losers where he was going, and followed Eddie from a safe distance. Every time Eddie coughed, he felt it. Every time Eddie’s biking got sloppy, much like how his dad drove when he’d had a little too much to drink, Riche pedaled faster. He had no clue where he was going, only that he’d follow Eddie to the ends of the earth if he had to. 

And then Eddie was jumping off his bike and not even hesitating before running off the edge of the cliff, jumping to the cold and unforgiving water below. 

“Shit, shit, shit —” Richie yelled, throwing his own bike down and running right off the cliff just as Eddie had seconds before.

_ People do stupid things when they’re in love. _

When Richie came back up to the surface, he couldn’t see Eddie. His heart was pounding, and he felt like he might hurl any second at the thought that he was too late to save Eddie ( _ I know your secret your dirty little secret _) —

Eddie broke through the water gasping and choking for air before disappearing beneath the surface once more.

Richie swam as fast as he possibly could to where the smaller boy was struggling to keep his head above the water. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled, using every muscle in his lanky body to try and get Eddie closer to the shore.

“C'mon Eds, stay with me, stay with me —” _ Look at me! Look at me Eddie, look at me! _ Eddie’s body went limp in his arms and Richie swam even faster. _ Look at me look at me look at me — _

Richie finally pulled Eddie’s body onto shore, and proceeded to panic. Eddie’s eyes remained closed, his body trembled and shivered from the cold, which Richie took as a good sign because that meant his heart was still beating, right?

But Eddie wasn’t breathing.

Richie did his best to remember anything they’d learned in their Health class, pushing past all of the sexual innuendos and poorly timed jokes that had landed him in detention to get to the stuff that would help him save Eddie’s life — _ oh god, his life is in my hands shit, this is all my fault _ — 

Under no circumstances did Richie want his first kiss with Eddie to be like this, but under no circumstances would Richie let Eddie die on his watch. 

Richie’s mouth met Eddie’s, and Eddie could kill him later if he wanted to, as long as Eddie was alive to kill him. Richie started alternating between chest compressions and mouth to mouth breathing, trying his best to keep an even pace despite the panic that surged through every fiber of his being. 

“Eddie, c’mon, breathe —you can’t, Eds _ please _ breathe, please y–I can’t do this without you, 1 can’t — I — Eds come on, stay with me, breathe, _ I love _ —”

Eddie still wasn’t breathing, Eddie wasn’t breathing, all of this because of a stupid argument over a stupid cold and it was all _ his fault, his fault his fault his fault _ — 

Eddie gasped and sat up fast enough for him to hit Richie in the face as he did so. 

“Motherfucker —" Richie cursed as Eddie turned to the side and coughed as much of the water out of his lungs as he could. Once he was finished coughing, Eddie looked back to Richie, taking in his dripping curls and panicked expression.

“Rich, what —”

Eddie couldn’t even finish that thought before Richie attacked him with a hug, his own arms shaking and trembling like Eddie’s were, his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. And then Richie was crying as he hugged Eddie, hot tears dripping onto his shoulder. And soon enough, Eddie was crying too. 

"Don’t you ever, _ ever _ do that to me again, Eds —” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t I’m,” _ cough cough _ “I’m sorry, Richie, I’m sorry —” 

“I thought — you stopped breathing, and we’re n-nowhere near a phone or a hospital or anything and fuck I was so scared —” 

“Richie?” 

Richie pulled back to look Eddie in the eyes. 

“P-Please don’t —tell my m-mom.” 

Richie didn’t know how to respond to that. He wanted to promise that he wouldn’t, he wanted to swear that this would stay between the two of them, but Eddie was still shaking like a leaf and the cough hadn’t gone away yet.

“Eddie —”

“Please, Richie - if I tell her this she’ll never let me do anything again, she’ll lock me up and keep me from going outside and from all of you and _ I can’t be sick _ , Richie, don’t you see? I can’t be sick because then she was right all along and I don’t wanna be sick, I want to be _ strong _ and she’s going to put me on all my medication again and she’ll _ take me off track _ and she - I can’t, I can’t do it, Richie _ please _ don’t tell her, please don’t, please —” 

Richie hugged Eddie again, holding him as tight as he could and breathing in a way that would let Eddle’s breath slow down to match his. He hugged him close, basking in the warmth he felt that nobody else’s hugs gave him, feeling Eddie’s heartbeat against his chest and reminding himself that Eddie was alive, wanting to spill everything to Eddie and tell him the truth but instead he let this moment last a little longer before saying,

“You need to go to the hospital.”

* * *

Eddie didn’t fight Richie on the way to the hospital. He should have, but it looked like it was breaking Richie’s heart just as much as it was breaking his own, so he let it be. Richie had insisted that Eddie ride with him on his bike, so Eddie sat behind Richie, arms wrapped around his chest as they approached the hospital. If he weren’t sick, Eddie would’ve sworn the way his stomach flipped was from being this close to Richie Tozier, but he was pretty sure it was just his fever acting up.

The lady at the reception desk recognized Eddie ( _ Kaspbrak, I haven’t seen you in a minute now, I thought you’d gone and died on us _) and ushered him in without even questioning it. When Richie tried to follow she blocked the door. 

“Family only, kiddo.” 

“I’m — I’m his brother!” 

“Nice try, you can see him after he’s been into see the doctor, alright?” 

“But —”

“No buts - I have half a mind to call Sonia Kaspbrak right this second, and the only reason I won’t is because she’ll distract the doctor from doing his job. So you can either sit here and wait, or go home and come back.”

Normally, Richie would stay glued to the spot he was in until someone forcibly removed him, but Eddie nodded at him from behind the reception lady, and he felt himself relax a little bit. 

“Fine. See you later, Spaghetti.” 

“That’s not my name.”

* * *

“He did what?” Stan asked as the Losers Club biked to the hospital. 

"He jumped into the quarry like an idiot and nearly drowned is what it sounds like to me.” Bev replied. 

“God, his mom’s gonna kill him —” 

“R-R-R-Richie...why are you s-s-s-soaking wet?” 

So maybe Richie had left some parts of the story out when recounting it to the other losers. He told them that they’d argued a bit ( _ not fought, not a real fight, he could never really fight Eddie _ ), and that Eddie had jumped into the water to prove a point to Richie, and when he’d come out of the water he’d felt worse and wanted to get a real doctor’s opinion on the matter ( _ Doctor K can’t figure it out on his own, huh Eds? _).

Richle didn’t feel like reliving almost losing Eddie for the second time this afternoon, so he pedaled ahead of the group and kept his mouth shut. He didn’t see the way Stan and Bev exchanged knowing glances after that. There was only small talk about the movie until the six of them reached the hospital, the group of them immediately crowding the reception desk the second they arrived.

“Hi, we’re here to see —” 

“Room 208, two guests at a time.” She replied. Richie took a few steps towards the door before realizing that someone else might want to see him first.

“I can — maybe two of you should —” 

“I’ll go with you, Rich.” Beverly offered, stepping forward and squeezing his hand gently. Richie nodded, and the two of them made their way through the doors. 

* * *

Beverly hadn’t seen Richie so quiet in a long time. The last time she’d seen him like this was after Eddie broke his arm — and here Eddie was, hurt yet again. Richie’s love for the other boy was more obvious than he probably thought it was.

“I’m sure he’s okay, Richie.” She piped up, the silence too much for her to handle as they made their way to room 208. “They’ll probably give him some meds, and he’ll be good as new.” 

“It’s my fault.” 

That took Beverly off-guard. “What do you mean?” 

“I told him he was sick.” 

“But he is sick, Richie — that’s not your fault.” 

“I acted like his _ mom _.” 

Beverly stopped him right then and there by placing her hands on his cheeks. “Richie Tozier, you are nothing like that woman, and this is not your fault. Look, maybe Eddie didn’t want to believe he was sick because of all the shit his mom did, but he’s actually sick, and you were just trying to help. Did you lock him in his room?”

“…no.“

"Did you tell him he couldn’t see his friends anymore?” 

“No, but —”

“Did you tell him you love him?” 

Richie paled and backed away from Beverly at the speed of light. ( _ I know your secret, your dirty little secret _ ) “N-No, what — what the _ fuck _ Bev, I’m not some — I’m not, I don’t —” 

“Richie, hey — you’re safe here, okay? I — we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but if you ever do —” 

“How did you know?” 

_ Because you won’t share the hammock with anyone else. Because he’s the only one you call 'cute, cute, cute’. Because when that clown tried to kill us your first instinct was to make sure Eddie wasn’t afraid. Because you’ve looked scared every time he coughed this week. Because it’s always been the two of you. _

“You look at him like he hung the stars in the sky.”

“Oh.”

“Does everyone know?”

Bev wished Richie didn’t look so afraid when he asked that. "Stan and I have wondered, but nobody else has a clue I don’t think.” 

_ Do you think they’ll end up together? _ Stan had asked her one day. _ Undoubtedly. _ She’d replied. 

“Come on, Trashmouth let’s go see your man.”

* * *

Richie was terrified that he would open the door and see Eddie looking half like a corpse, like it was in the movies. If it weren’t for Bev at his side, he probably never would have made it in the room. He was happily surprised, however, when the sight that greeted his eyes was an awake, Jello-eating Eddie.

“They got new Jello, this is the good shit right here. Hey Bev! How’s it going?”

And it was so normal that Richie could’ve cried then and there.

“It’s going well, you two missed out on a pretty good movie.” Bev replied with her classic Bev smile, moving to sit on the edge of his hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

Eddie’s expression dimmed at that, and Richie found himself grabbing a chair and sitting right next to the bed, squeezing Eddie’s hand for comfort.

“I’m — well, I’m sick.”

_ Baby steps. _

“I’m sorry, Eds —”

“No, it’s okay, it’s — I made it worse, you know? By ignoring it for so long. Doctor says my bronchitis almost turned into a pretty severe pneumonia, I’m lucky I got here when I did.”

Imagining Eddie with an even more severe illness, one that was known for killing kids, was what finally broke Richie. Sobs erupted from his mouth and he let go of Eddie’s hand to pull his knees to his chest and let it all out. He was sure Eddie and Bev were saying things, but he couldn’t hear them when the stupid clown was singing the stupid song in his head and picturing Eddie almost drowning and imagining Eddie needing surgery —

Hands were gently rubbing his back, and another was carding through his hair. 

“Richie, you have to breathe sooner or later.”

His breath slowed at Bev’s words, and he wiped his eyes. He looked up at Eddie and realized that the hand gently running through his hair belonged to the boy in the bed, not Beverly. 

“I’m — I’m gonna give the two of you some time alone, okay? We’ll be in the waiting room whenever you need us.” And then Beverly was placing a gentle kiss on Eddie’s forehead and one on Richie’s forehead, and then leaving the room with the door clicking shut behind her.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Said Eddie, hand still in Richie’s hair.

“It’s not your fault.” Said Richie, eyes on the floor.

“Hey Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.” Eddie said, patting the space next to him on the bed. If Richie had been thinking straight, he wouldn’t have moved to get so close to Eddie, but when it came to Eddie, Richie hardly ever thought straight. He climbed onto the bed, sharing the space much like how they shared the hammock, or sometimes even Eddie’s bed if Richie had come over and climbed through the window. Eddie turned onto his side to face Richie, and Richie did the same.

“You kissed me.”

Richie’s brain short-circuited.

“What?”

“You — I mean you saved me, but you, you didn’t hesitate to do the mouth to mouth stuff or whatever.”

“Your life was on the line, Spagheds.”

“That’s not my name —”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what it says on the doctor’s notes so —”

“Kiss me again.”

Richie’s brain short-circuited for the second time within a minute.

“Eds, I don’t — are you sure you’re feeling well? Cause this is — I mean, blimey Dr. K we oughta page another Doc don’t you —”

And then Eddie’s lips were on Richie’s lips but nobody was drowning this time and it was beautiful. Richie’s lips were too chapped, and Eddie’s tasted a little like medicine, and it wasn’t perfect but it was _ them. _

Eddie pulled back, blushing enough to give some color to his pale cheeks.

“I love you.”

Richie’s brain short-circuited, packed a bag, and decided to go on vacation for the rest of time.

“But — that’s my line.” Was the best response Richie could come up with. And Eddie laughed, his eyes squinting as he did so, his dimples tempting Richie to grab them and say, ‘cute, cute, cute’.

“Then say it, dipshit. I wanna hear it for myself.”

Richie leaned in and kissed one of Eddie’s cheeks.

“I —”

He kissed the other.

“Love —”

He kissed Eddie on the lips again, and everything was right.

“Your Mom.”

And maybe Eddie pushed him off of the bed after that, but Richie wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you love it? Hate it? Let me know in the comments below! Also if you have any fic ideas, comment them below or send them my way @gczebos on Tumblr! :)


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